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What have I done?The question rolled through Neeka’s mind as she sat in a dingy dungeon, waiting for Rathbone. Although, honestly, the answer seemed pretty apparent. She’d fallen into like with her Scarlet Thunder, taking a terrible situation and making it worse. A new specialty of hers.
Her reflection had nailed it. He was a bad bet, but she’d fallen anyway. She missed hearing his voice in her head. Missedhim.Her feelings were engaged now, and that sucked on every level. She didn’t even care that he was going to destroy her old life as soon as they had sex.
Bring it on.Some things needed torching.
See? Worse. He couldn’t be her everything. No one could.
With a heavy sigh, she kicked out her legs and leaned against a bloodstained rock wall. The chains around her wrists and ankles rattled. Her cell’s lone source of light came from a torch hanging outside the bars. It served as the sole source of warmth, too. Meaning, no warmth at all.
She hated being chilled. Or maybe the frigid temperature wasn’t the problem. She’d been cold before with zero complaints. Neeka had a sinking suspicion her newfound disdain stemmed from being outside the heat radius of her partner.
Ugh. She was a fool, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Kissing Rathbone? Loving the feel of his fingers inside her? Intending to do more? Practically begging for it before she did what the mission demanded and convinced him to drink the elixir? Oh, yeah. A straight-up fool. Add in a growing possessiveness and a need to protect him, even from herself, and she’d dug herself a hole from which she couldn’t escape.
He’d never forgive her for her secrets, no matter how altruistic her intentions. If he couldn’t forgive Lore, a goddess of desire he’d spent centuries chasing, what hope did the Unwanted have?
Neeka tossed a pebble across the concrete and dirt. Of course, this was always meant to be her fate. The gal tossed aside for whatever reason, left aching for what could have been.
She absolutely, positively could not kiss the King of Agonies a third time. Or a fourth. Especially not a fifth. Not until she’d explained the truth.
The moment had come. He was ready.
But was she?
He’d claimed he desired something long-term with her. But what was long-term to him? Did he still hope to keep Lore, too?
If only Neeka didn’t admire him. And why, why, why did his every kiss and touch have to set her aflame? Why had she allowed Taliyah to fill her head with thoughts of accepting a consort? Here, now, Neeka could think of little else. Because the odds now skewed in Rathbone’s favor.
Perhaps she’d take the General’s advice and drink someone’s blood. Just a few swallows. If she vomited, she’d prove Rathbone was hers. If not, she could stop weaving dreams of a happily-ever-after in a secret part of her soul.
A hard truth was better than soft ignorance, yes?
Roc appeared in the center of the cell, and Neeka quickly wiped thoughts of kisses and consorts from her mind. He offered her a smug smile, his dark eyes glittering with triumph. For a moment she kind of understood what her friend saw in the guy. Sexy! Except, this wasn’t Roc but Rathbone. Big Red had shifted into the Commander, after she’d given him blood and busied the real one by turning herself in. Of course, the first thing real Roc had done was pin her wings, negating her immortal strength.
“You did it!” she said, jumping to her feet. “I never doubted you.”
“As well you shouldn’t. I’m amazing.”
She couldn’t hear his voice, but she knew it mimicked Roc’s; Rathbone’s mouth moved differently than usual. Stiffer. And okay, yeah, the transformation was kind of losing its appeal. If he became the people he portrayed, he might start to desire Taliyah, giving Neeka more competition to overcome.
“That you are,” she agreed. “Because you’re you. Capable of anything.”
He straightened his shoulders, as if her praise had gone straight to his head. Holding out his hand, he showed her the ilium. “Azar didn’t hesitate to part with his prize.”
“Congrats. But you’re feeling all right?” Worry coiled around her. “Your molecular makeup hasn’t shifted so much you feel icky?”
“Icky?” One of his brows arched, amusement glittering in his odd irises. “The shift proved easier than ever, and I don’t know why.”
Ooh. That, she liked. “Maybe because you’re more you than ever?” she asked, presenting her cuffed wrists. “Be a dear and free me, then get us the heck out of Dodge. I’m not a fan of my new metal. It makes me weak.”
“With a mind like yours, carrot, you are never weak.” He hung the bone at his waist, clasped her wrist cuffs, and tugged her closer.
What a kind thing to say. Not entirely accurate but kind. “You... I...well.” Deep breath in. Out. “As I was saying, we should go. I sense danger.” Of course, she’d sensed danger before they’d arrived in Harpina, but that was neither here nor there.
He removed the shackles with ease and reached for the wing pinner.
A scowling Azar appeared, a dagger in each grip.
“My suspicions were correct. You are not my Commander,” the warlord snarled. “Wherever you go, I will follow. Don’t think you can hide in the Realm of the Forgotten. I have acquired a key.”
